Glimpsing the Fandom
by Dreamality
Summary: A laptop with Internet access appears out of nowhere in the jungle. The survivors can only access Lost-related websites and are introduced to fan fiction, slash fiction, theories, and fan girls. Some of them are more affected than others. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Charlie and Claire Visit Message Boards

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by**** Dreamality**

**Summary:** A mysterious laptop appears out of nowhere. It has Internet access, but the survivors can only get to certain websites that are all based on themselves. Watch as the characters are amused, shocked, horrified, disgusted, or intrigued by such things as fan fiction, slash, fan girls, incest, and the crazy theories surrounding the island. Butwhat evil mastermind could bebehind all this madness??

**Rating: PG-13 **for stuff and things.

**Please note: **For those of you who could not discern this from the summary alone, this story is very much **AU** and will not follow the plotline of the show very much.

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

**-----**

**Chapter One: A Message Board Sends a Message to Charlie and Claire**

It was Claire and Charlie who first stumbled upon it as they were moving Claire's things from the beach to the caves.

At first both had been sure they were hallucinating as a result of overexposure to UV rays and lack of adequate food and rest. When Charlie reached out and touched it and the machine sprang to life, whirring and clicking, both had jumped back in shock as though it were a monster stirring from sleep.

"D'you… d'you reckon this thing works?" Charlie asked incredulously.

Claire shrugged, still staring wide-eyed at the laptop sitting on a plain table with two chairs in front of it. There were no wires leading away from the laptop, but when Charlie tried to pick it up it did not budge. Likewise the table was held in place by some invisible force, unable to be moved from its place in the middle of the jungle, with absolutely no explanation for its sudden appearance.

"Is it safe?" Claire asked. It was Charlie's turn to shrug. He set the bag he carried down on the ground and slowly lowered himself onto one of the chairs. It was padded and much more comfortable than the cold, rocky ground he'd been sleeping on for the last few weeks. Claire sat beside him and watched as the black screen slowly came to life.

An Internet browser was open. Much to Charlie and Claire's surprise, pictures of themselves and of the other survivors greeted them. Impossibly, yet evidenced before their very eyes, there was an entire website dedicated to them, and they had actual pictures of the crashed plane and the people on the island.

"Bloody hell," Charlie murmured, and the flabbergasted look on his face conveyed Claire's exact thoughts. "How did they get this?"

"Look, Charlie, there's our names. Click on that," Claire said, tapping her finger on the screen to point out a link under the pictures that read 'A Forum for Charlie/Claire Shippers.' While neither of them had any idea who or what shippers were, they were drawn by curiosity to their own names.

Charlie clicked, and a message board quickly loaded. Both he and Claire scanned the message topics, eyes widening in shock the lower they went.

_'Charlie and Claire are sooooo cute!'_

_'My fave couple evah on the island!'_

_'Claire Charlie are going to have ten babies 2gethr!'_

_'Charlie is so H0TT OMG LYKE WHOA!!!!!!111!!1!11!!!'_

_'Charlie and Claire are kewt!'_

"Charlie… what _is_ this?" Claire gasped. Part of her was shocked that there were people who knew who she was and spent time discussing her while the other part was appalled at the horrendous spelling littering the message board. Who were these people, twelve-year-old girls?

"How do these people… they know… why do they… no one is supposed to know where we are! Everyone thinks we're dead!" Charlie exclaimed. Charlie took control of the mouse and clicked on the top message, which was titled, _'Peanut buttah is so secksi!'_

There were a few posts beneath the initial one. All were discussing the moment when Charlie had gifted Claire the jar of peanut butter. The jar which currently resided in Claire's bag at her feet, the jar Charlie had given to her only hours prior. Somehow these people, random strangers on the World Wide Web, had learned of this and were discussing it excitedly amongst themselves. More than a few of those participating in the discussion digressed into detailed accounts of Charlie's tongue and what else they wished to see him lick. By the time they got to the end of the thread, Claire was giggling and Charlie was blushing bright red.

"Rubbish," he grunted. "All of it. Bloody rubbish."

"I think it's rather funny," Claire said. Charlie just grunted in response. "But how did this _get_ here? And how do these people _know_ about us?"

Charlie shook his head. He had clicked the 'back' button to skim over the rest of the posts. Randomly he chose another, which had a slightly more intelligent topic: _'Why Charlie and Claire are meant to be.'_

This was a rather lengthy discussion of every possible reason for Charlie and Claire to link up in a romantic way, from the silly (_'She's the only woman on the island who's not too fall for him!_') to the serious (_'Raising the baby can become Charlie's reason for quitting drugs_'). Every moment of their time together on the island was analyzed and broken down until it became an illustration of their undying love for one another. Charlie had to admit, they had some valid points. While it was disconcerting that total strangers knew so much about him and thought about him so much, he found himself starting to believe the things they were saying.

"We should tell Jack about this." Claire's voice was much softer than she'd meant it to be. When she looked at Charlie her eyes were soft and a faint blush remained on her otherwise fair complexion. Charlie's hand reached up of its own accord to run his fingers through her golden hair.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice a soft breath of air against her cheek. She wasn't sure how he had ended up so close to him, only that she didn't want to move away. "We should. I mean, it would be the right thing to do, I suppose."

"Yeah. The right thing to do." Claire nodded. "But, I mean… we don't have to… I mean, we don't have to go rushing off right this minute, do we? We have… some time… right?"

"I think so," Charlie said, and his fingers ghosted across her cheek. "I think we have plenty of time."

"So we can look at more–" Claire was quickly silenced when Charlie pressed his lips on hers forcefully. She made a little surprised sound into his mouth before relaxing and returning the kiss, loving the feeling of his hands on her stomach. The kiss seemed to last an eternity. When they finally have to separate to breathe again, Charlie glanced at the computer screen with a cheeky grin on his face.

"So. Ten babies, eh?"

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**To Be Continued…**

**Next chapter: **Jack wants to write his own fan fiction.


	2. Jack Wishes to Rewrite Fan Fiction

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

**-----**

**Chapter Two: Jack Wishes to Rewrite Fan Fiction**

By the following day everyone in both the beach camp and the cave camp was abuzz with rumors about this mysterious laptop that supposedly knew all about their adventures on the island. Claire and Charlie had told Jack about it first, who naturally spread it to Kate when he went to see her at the beach the next day.

Other duties kept Jack busy most of the day, leaving no time to go see the laptop. He himself was still quite skeptical and wondered if Charlie and Claire had not just made the whole thing up. After all, a laptop in the middle of a jungle? It was highly improbable and completely illogical. Still, he couldn't get his mind off of it as he fished, brought water to the beach, gathered bananas, and tried to dispel the constant arguments among the survivors.

When he finally had a moment to spare he hurried down the path Charlie and Claire claimed the laptop lie on. He had to stop and blink a few times when he found Kate leaning her elbow on a table, reading something on the screen of a wireless laptop computer. When he drew closer he saw a picture of himself at the top of the screen, followed by a large block of writing.

"Kate, this thing actually works?" Jack exclaimed. Kate looked up in surprise and quickly minimized whatever she was looking at, looking slightly ashamed.

"Jack! Didn't hear you come up. Uh, yeah, it's real. It works. But I can only get to certain websites. There's no way to contact anyone. I checked that first. It only goes to websites that are about… well, us. I can't get to any search engines or e-mail services or anything," Kate answered. She demonstrated by opening a new browser and trying to get to Google, Hotmail, Yahoo, CNN, and AltaVista just as examples. Each time only a blank page came up. Then Kate opened the 'Favorite Pages' sidebar and clicked on a page titled 'Lost Fan Fiction.'

"What's that?" Jack asked curiously, drawing his chair closer to her under the pretense of getting a better look at the screen. Really it was an excuse to get closer to her. A subtle whiff of her hair made Jack close his eyes to concentrate on the smell. How she managed to smell nice with no shampoo or soap was beyond Jack, though that didn't stop him from enjoying it.

"Fan fiction? Apparently it's stories about us. About me, mostly." Kate made a face of disgust as Jack began to glance over the links. "These people write about me getting it on with everything that moves!"

This outburst made Jack bust up laughing. Kate, however, was not amused as she scrolled through a long list of links that all led to stories involving her and any number of other people, but mainly Jack, Sayid, and Sawyer. Jack's eyes widened when he saw a few listing the pairing as "Kate/Locke" and "Kate/Jin." Honestly, were these people mentally disturbed? Locke was probably old enough to be her father, and Jin, besides being married, did not speak English and appeared to have a very controlling, if not _abusive_, personality.

"Have you read any of them?" Jack asked.

Kate blushed and looked down. "A few," she admitted reluctantly.

"And…?"

"And what?" Kate raised an eyebrow at him.

"And what do you think? Was there any truth to them?" Jack pressed.

"Most of them were crap. People were making up stories about my history, trying to make me out like some kind of 'damsel-in-distress' victim of circumstances type person. Like a martyr," Kate answered. A shadow came behind her eyes, giving her a slightly wistful look. As usual Jack had to bite his tongue keep from asking about the past she seemed so keen on burying.

"What about the romances? Seems like you're very popular with me, Sawyer, and Sayid," Jack pointed out.

"Why do you care?" Kate's tone was teasing but it still made Jack flush with shame. He hoped her piercing gaze could not see the thoughts that were just behind his eyes. "Are you asking me who I would prefer to hook up with, out of the three of you?"

"No!" Jack exclaimed, a little too passionately. "Of course not. I don't care. Why would I care?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Jack hated the knowing look she had plastered on her face. "I better get back to the beach. You go on and stay here awhile. Maybe check some of these out, see who I'm most passionate with." Kate winked as she stood up and walked away, patting Jack's shoulder in passing. He watched her go, struggling very hard to keep his eyes from dipping below the waistline, and then turned back to the computer.

Jack hesitated for only a second before seizing the mouse and clicking on the first Jack/Kate story he saw. He read a few of those before moving on to Kate/Sayid stories, and finally Kate/Sawyer. Every word he read filled him with a darker and darker feeling. In all the stories, Kate and Jack were considerably more boring when compared with Sayid and Kate, who shared a beautiful understanding of each other's pasts and were able to flower a perfect love, and Kate and Sawyer, wherein their passionate anger usually transformed into passionate love about halfway through. In the Jack/Kate relationships it seemed like the authors paired them together just because, as if they were somehow meant to be, though it was never explained why. In other stories Kate was made out to be ridiculously affectionate while Jack's flowering language as he 'praised her beauty' bordered on effeminate.

When his eyes were so tired the words were blurring beyond comprehension, Jack closed the browser and trudged back up the path to the caves. Only one other person was sitting by the fire. Locke. He said nothing when Jack seated himself on the log beside him.

"Have you seen this new computer?" Jack asked after a moment or two of awkward silence.

Locke nodded. "I have. I went down earlier today to peruse a few websites."

"And did you come across any… what's it called? Fan fiction?" Jack asked.

"I did, actually. I thought it was rather amusing. Especially the one concerning myself and the polar bear. _After_ it died."

Jack looked at Locke incredulously. Although the older man's mouth twitched towards a smile, he was otherwise so serious that Jack knew he was telling the truth. "Didn't catch that one. I just saw the ones about… well, Kate. And… everyone else."

"Is something bothering you about the fan fiction, Jack? You know there's a reason it's called fiction," Locke pointed out gently.

"Yeah, I know, but…" Jack sighed, clearly frustrated.

"But it still concerns you," Locke finished, and Jack nodded. "You want to know who I think Kate will choose."

"It has felt like a competition, as much as I hate to admit it. It's clear that Sawyer is attracted to her. With Sayid it's hard to tell, but they definitely understand each other. Then… there's… well, me. And I just… don't really know. If she… I know she's not worrying about that kind of stuff. She's too smart for that. It's childish, really, to be thinking about love when we need to focus on surviving." Jack realized he had just come as close to babbling as he ever had in his life and promptly shut his mouth before Locke realized what a pathetic, lovesick puppy he was turning into.

"You know, I've always liked polar bears," Locke commented. Jack frowned, not following his train of thought. "While I would never pursue a romantic relationship with one, the author of the 'fan fiction' I mentioned did somewhat correctly capture my infatuation with those animals."

"You're saying… that the… the fan fiction could be true?" Jack asked slowly, not quite believing.

"I'm saying that the fan fictions all had elements of reality, but it is possible that the authors misinterpreted our actions or our motives behind our actions. I'm also pointing out that we all have control over our own actions. We are not expected to act out these stories word-for-word. We can create our own stories," Locke said. Jack nodded and sat there a moment longer, staring into the fire as he contemplated what Locke was saying.

"Jack, I'm telling you to go to her," Locke said, somewhat exasperatedly as if he were dealing with someone of inferior intelligence.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed. "Oh." He stood up. "Right. Thanks, John." Jack disappeared into the jungle, heading straight for the beach. He was about to create his own fan fiction, with himself as the main character and Kate as the heroine, and there would be nothing boring about _this_ relationship.

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**To Be Continued…**

**Author's Note:** Wow! I can't believe what a response this fic has gotten! Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I'm so happy you like it! I'm sorry this update is so late. Unfortunately with the semester coming to a close soon I have to cram for finals, and that leaves very little time for feeding my plot bunnies. They're beginning to gnaw on my brain, so if this chapter was a little OOC, blame them. They're driving me crazy. Hope you all liked Jack's reaction to fan fiction!

**Coming up next:** Sayid and Sawyer discover what slash fiction is.


	3. Sawyer and Sayid Discover Slash Fiction

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by**** Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

**Please note: **This chapter will include elements of slash, which is relationships between two characters of the same gender for those who are not already aware. It will be non-graphic and limited, but let this serve as a warning for those who may be offended by mention of such things.

**-----**

**Chapter Three: Sawyer and Sayid Discover Slash Fiction**

It was noon, and as usual Sawyer was kicking back in the comfortable shade of his tent, women's sunglasses on his face, Watership Down in his hands. The sunglasses served a dual purpose. One, to block out harmful UV rays. Two, to hide his eyes so no one would see that he was not actually reading the book.

Instead he was glancing around the beach almost nervously, trying to make sure that no one was watching him. When he was sure that everyone was ignoring him (as usual, but he just had to be certain) he set the book on the ground and slowly edged out of the tent. Once within the seclusion of the thickly vegetated jungle he quickened his pace, taking the path that had become the most traversed within the last few days.

It was the path that led to the laptop, and nearly every survivor on the island had taken a pilgrimage to this strange shrine dedicated to the island and its inhabitants. Every survivor except Sawyer, that it. Although he feigned cool indifference and even mocked those who cared so much about it, his curiosity was really gnawing at him. Midday was the best time to go since everyone tended to stay busy until late afternoon or early evening, doing all that hunter-gatherer stuff Sawyer was not about to get involved in. After all, why exert the energy when everyone else was willing to do the work for him?

When Sawyer came upon the somewhat wide clearing the laptop had appeared in, he cursed under his breath. The damned Iraqi had beaten him to it and was seated comfortably in the chair, staring intently at the screen. Sawyer contemplated turning back before Sayid saw him, but even as the thought entered his head Sayid looked up. A smug smile spread across his face and it was difficult for Sawyer to contain his anger.

"Sawyer," Sayid said by way of greeting. "How nice of you to visit me. You've come to express your wishes for a speedy recovery on my part, I expect?"

The skin under Sawyer's torn and ragged fingernails was beginning to burn in remembrance of the bamboo reeds beneath them. The wound on his arm was twitching. Sawyer's fist clenched and his jaw tightened by increments as he walked slowly towards Sayid, who had nothing more than a little scratch on his leg that some old hag had given him while Sayid was trying to play explorer.

"No, I didn't think so," Sayid said, and Sawyer swore there was amusement beneath the arrogance.

"Just forget I was even here," Sawyer muttered, and turned his back on Sayid.

"Wait," Sayid called. "I think you might like to take a look at this. There are some things on this website that concern you."

Sawyer paused, not yet turning around.

"Concerning you and me, I should say." Sayid's tone was unreadable this time. Sawyer, unwilling to admit that he was curious and yet unwilling to give up and walk away, slowly turned around to look at Sayid. The other man put his hand on the back of the second chair and nodded at it, eyebrows raised at Sawyer.

With a sigh the Southerner trudged to the chair and plopped down in it. Sayid hit the 'back' button and Sawyer found himself staring at pictures of the beach and all the survivors, followed by a long list of links to other websites.

"What's this? Some kind of fan club?" Sawyer asked.

"You might say that," Sayid nodded. "Have you heard of fan fiction, Sawyer?"

He nodded. The story of Jack and Kate had spread like wildfire through both camps, and Sawyer had to admit he had listened to most of the talk. Anything that concerned Kate concerned Sawyer, and the thought of her with that goody-two-shoes doctor was enough to make him sick. He did get a little satisfaction out of hearing rumors that Jack had initially felt threatened by Sawyer and Sayid's obvious interest in the same woman and only his fear that they might win her over first had prompted him to action.

"I suppose you do not know what 'slash' fiction is, though," Sayid said.

"Slash? What in the hell is that?" Sawyer asked.

"I only learned about it today. I was clicking through some links. Most of them had to do with me. My past, my time on the island, and my time in the captivity of the French woman." Sayid smiled a little, almost fondly. "More than a few concerned myself and the French woman in some very interesting situations." Sayid shook his head to refocus his thoughts and looked at the list of links. When he found a particular one, he clicked on it so Sawyer could see it. "Then I came across this. A 'slash fiction archive.' I did some research and found that 'slash' refers to any fan fiction that deals with two characters of the same gender in romantic situations."

Sawyer's eyes widened. "And you _read_ this stuff? Gay stories?"

"I skimmed two or three, was sufficiently disgusted, and left to find a different website. Since this was the only website that discussed you at all, I thought you might be interested in seeing it," Sayid explained rationally.

"They think we're gay?" Sawyer said.

"It's fiction, Sawyer. Do you need me to find an online dictionary or are you already aware the fiction usually refers to stories that are not true?" Sayid asked in that 'I'm-so-superior-and-you're-nothing-but-a-stupid-redneck' tone of voice that Sawyer hated more than anything in the world. Snarling a little, Sawyer snatched the mouse from Sayid's hand and clicked on the first link he saw, not noticing the clearly stated "R" rating of the story.

"Might as well see what lies they're telling about us," Sawyer explained. Sayid nodded and leaned in a little to read the story.

_Sayid took Sawyer's rough, calloused hand in his own and held it to his heart. "You feel this? It beats for you, and only you."_

"Didn't know you were so poetic, Aladdin," Sawyer smirked.

"Aladdin was from Saudi Arabia, not Iraq, and I would never utter such complete nonsense," Sayid retorted. "Anyway, read on."

_Sawyer's eyes melted, losing their defensiveness. "I missed you, you know. Thought about you every night. Wished I was with you, just to hold you at night." He took the hand on his chest and brought it to his lips, caressing it with his mouth. "Just to touch your perfect skin." His tongue flicked out to taste the sheen of sweat that shone on the skin. "Sweet. Just like I thought. It looks like melted chocolate, I figured it must taste as sweet."_

"I'm going to throw up," Sawyer muttered.

Sayid laughed, revealing perfectly white teeth. Sawyer liked the way his dark eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

Then Sawyer reconsidered his thoughts, felt horrified with himself, and promptly decided that Sayid had not only caused physical damage but deep psychological damage as well.

"Ah. This is nice. Sawyer, if you ever do that to me, rest assured that I will cut off your hand." Sayid pointed to a paragraph farther down the screen. Sawyer read it and Sayid laughed when his jaw dropped open. That pink tongue hiding within seemed to tease Sayid, and when it flicked nervously over Sawyer's dry lips Sayid wished to…

Wait. No. This was wrong. Sayid shook his head, his eyes wider than they should have been.

"And if _you_ ever do _that_ you'd lose a _lot_ more than your hand." Sawyer pointed at the next line and Sayid's laughter abruptly stopped. For an instant both were engrossed in reading the story until, at once, they both let out yells of disgust and horror and pushed their chairs away from the screen.

"That is disgusting!" Sayid cried, completely aghast.

"Wow. Didn't know Muslims were allowed to do that. That what Osama bin Laden's been teaching you?" Sawyer asked, one eyebrow cocked in questioning.

Sayid glared at Sawyer and contemplated strangling him. "Your ignorance astounds me. Do you not realize that as you stereotype everyone around you, you are only proving that the stereotypical 'rednecks' are actually as stupid as they are portrayed?"

"You're calling me stupid?" Sawyer's anger rose quickly and flashed in his steely blue eyes. As each man sat there in front of the mysterious laptop, glaring at each other, they were not unlike two snakes preparing to strike. The only question that remained was whose venom was more poisonous?

"I am only saying you have some very obvious shortcomings that you reinforce every time you open your mouth," Sayid sneered. Score one for him.

Sawyer's eyes flickered to the screen of the laptop, where the browser with the slash fiction was still up. "If I were you, Mohammed, I wouldn't be talking about opening mouths." Everything was tied up, one point each.

Sayid's jaw literally dropped open. If his dark skin had not been covering it, Sawyer would have sworn he was actually blushing. In a tightly controlled voice he replied, "First of all, Sawyer, my name is _Sayid_. Secondly, I must say I regret my decision to show these websites to you, since obviously you cannot handle them in a mature manner. Finally, let it be said that should you ever get any _ideas_, I do not wish to have _your_ tongue anywhere _near_ my earlobe, much less your teeth on my neck. After all, it is quite clear to me that your big talk is only to make up for other… deficiencies." Another tally under Sayid's name.

Sawyer stared at him in disbelief, utterly shocked that he had dared to play that card. When his mind drew a blank and he could think of nothing to say in retaliation he flew to his feet, the chair falling over as he strode back towards the path that would lead him to the beach. He heard Sayid yelling his name and ignored him until a hand reached out and grabbed his uninjured arm. The fury in his eyes when he turned to look at Sayid from beneath shaggy blonde hair almost made the trained soldier flinch.

"Sawyer," Sayid breathed.

"Get your hand off of me," Sawyer said, his voice low and gravelly.

"I'm sorry," Sayid said.

Whatever Sawyer might have been expecting, an apology was not it. "What?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard Sayid the first time.

Sayid expelled his breath in one puff of hot air. He ran a hand through his entangled curls and looked into Sawyer's eyes. There was sincerity in them and Sawyer was tempted to believe him when he said, "I said I am sorry, Sawyer."

"Why?" Sawyer's eyes were narrow, trying to glimpse some kind of ulterior motive beneath the raw, honest eyes.

Sayid sighed and motioned to the laptop behind him. "Because we are being immature. _Both_ of us. Obviously there are people out there –some of them disturbed individuals, some of them creative thinkers with a misguided talent– who believe that it is possible for the two of us to be friends." Sayid paused and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I am not suggesting that we find a nice bush to make out behind." Sawyer had to laugh. "I am simply saying, why can't we at least be civil to each other? I have already apologized for what happened." His hand ghosted over the bandage around Sawyer's arm. "I have already told you that I am ashamed."

"I know." Sayid looked up at Sawyer. Instead of finding anger or disgust on his face, he was surprised to see what looked like understanding. "Maybe you're right. Maybe that slash fiction isn't so… okay, yeah, it's disgusting, but… I can be civil to you."

Sayid stuck out his hand. Sawyer took it and they shook, neither man looking away from the other's eyes. They walked together to the beach, and the survivors watched in surprise as they sat in Sawyer's tent and talked and laughed, almost as though they were _friends_.

Thus the power of the laptop was once more proven as it forged a new relationship, one of platonic affairs rather than of romantic, between two very different members of the camp.

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**Author's Note:** Once again I am completely flabbergasted by the outpouring of support you have all shown me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading my story! I'm so happy so many of you seem to be enjoying it!

**Coming up:** Jin is confused and outraged when he learns that so many people hate him and wish that Sun was with Michael. Will Sun take this opportunity to stand up to Jin or will she succumb to his will?


	4. Sun's Addiction to Fan Fiction

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

**Authos' Note:** Major thanks to **Cerrita **for providing inspiration for this particular chapter!! You rock, girl!!

**-----**

**Chapter Four: Sun's Addiction to Fan Fic**

It was very early in the morning, only moments past sunrise. Sun and Jin lay together in their personal space within the sanctity of the caves, and while Jin slumbered peacefully with a protective arm around his wife's waist, Sun lay wide awake, her eyes gazing unseeingly at the rock ceiling. Holding her breath, she gently slid his arm off of her and rose to her feet.

Only Jack and Sayid were awake. When they saw her she smiled demurely and kept her gaze cast downward as she walked towards the path to the beach. She had to go right by Michael and his son and it was all she could do to keep from staring blatantly at him. It was improper but the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the forbidden gaze was enough to propel her forward.

Her destination came sooner than she had expected. Without realizing how far she had come, already she was standing before the laptop. She would be the first to use it on that day, just as she had been the last to use it as soon as Jin had fallen asleep the previous night. When it powered up she opened an Internet browser and quickly typed in a URL that led her to a Korean-language website.

Greedily her eyes devoured the words of a fan fiction. It was long and its rating alone made Sun blush. The actual content made her feel as though she were committing some great evil. However, its addictive qualities made her want to read the multi-chapter fic all in one sitting. Unfortunately she was only allowed snippets of time to read a chapter or two before Jin might wake up, become curious about her whereabouts, and go looking for her. No matter what he could not find out what she was doing.

The part Sun had left off at the previous night had been a cliffhanger, and when she opened a new chapter she immediately became engrossed in the events. It was a romance involving her and another man on the island. That other man was not her husband, though Jin played a large part in the fic.

The other man was Michael.

The only one who knew her secret. The only person on the island whom Sun felt drawn toward.

It was wrong, she knew, and it went against everything that had been bred into her since the day she was born. Michael was not an upstanding member of Korean society; though her father had overlooked the "upstanding" part in Jin. Michael was not a member of Korean society at all, and had no knowledge of their customs, background, or culture. She doubted that, if she were to ever see him again, her father would be so willing to overlook these faults. Besides not being Korean, Jin was an American. An _African_-American.

For reasons Sun had never understood, her father and most other high-class Koreans looked down upon such people. At first she had been inclined to agree, until she met Michael and Walt. Although he was prone to passionate outbursts and showed emotion more than Jin would ever dare to, he had within him something that attracted Sun. And his son was nothing less than adorable. Since Jin had never expressed an interest in having children even though Sun longed for one, seeing a little motherless child pulled on her heart in the most painful of ways.

Thus, the tears that shimmered on her face as she read the exceptional fan fiction had reasons that went deeper than the thin laptop monitor in front of her. As she came nearer to the pinnacle of the story all concept of time melted away until the sun beat down on her, soaking her in sweat despite her thin cotton shirt.

Completely unbeknownst to her, she was being watched.

The person watching her was not pleased.

When he drew near enough to read the words on the screen, Sun being too engrossed to hear his soft footsteps, his anger doubled.

"Sun!" Jin barked.

Sun jumped and looked over her shoulder, eyes wide with horror as she took in Jin's angry expression, clenched fists, and tense shoulders.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked in their own language. His voice was far too loud. Sun rose and walked towards him, trying to signal him to keep quiet lest anyone hear their fight. While they would not be able to understand, his tone spoke volumes and she did not want anyone else to know that they were arguing.

"Jin, please, there is no need to shout. I can explain," Sun said soothingly, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He slapped it away. "Explain what? That after I told you not to go near this white devil's machine, you not only defy me and go to it, but you choose to go to something like _this_?" Jin motioned angrily to the screen. A manipulated picture of Michael and Sun standing together on the beach made Sun wince and Jin clench his jaw.

"But Jin, you know that–" Sun tried to explain.

"Don't tell me what I do and do not know!" Jin yelled. Sun cringed and shrank away from his angry words. "I have seen these websites. The whole world hates me. They have already exposed you! I have read about you and… and… that _man_! I thought you were a respectable woman! I thought you would be obedient to me! Loyal to me! What kind of wife are you?"

For a moment, Sun looked down at the ground, since meeting his eyes when he was in the throes of such rage might be construed as disrespectful. She felt his eyes boring holes in the top of her head.

"Is it true?" Jin asked. His voice was like cold steel drilling into her.

"Is what true?" Sun glanced up for the briefest of moments to give Jin a questioning look.

"What they say," Jin said slowly, "about… people like him."

"I'm sorry?" Sun clearly did not understand. Jin was having difficulties getting out what he wanted to say. If Sun didn't know better, she might think he was almost embarrassed.

"About black people," Jin spat. "Is that why you go to him and not to me?"

Sun's eyes widened when she finally understood his meaning. "Jin! You do not understand! These websites, they are fiction!"

"Don't stand there and lie to me! I have seen you looking at him when you think I am asleep! You have never looked at me like that!" Jin cried in anguish.

What Sun saw before her was not the charming waiter she had fallen in love with. This was a mere shadow of a man, broken and falling into a dark abyss. To save himself he was grasping at things that weren't there, trying to dig his claws into her as deep as he could to make sure that if he went down, so would she. It might have worked if they were home in Korea. Here, where he did not speak the common language and was distrusted by most of the other survivors, he had no leeway. Sun did have one chance, one last card to play, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to use it just yet.

"Jin, please, you are being irrational. Michael and I–" Sun tried once more to excuse her actions.

"Michael? You are on a first name basis with him? Do you realize that he cannot understand you? That you cannot understand him? It would never work! Never!" Jin yelled in a melodramatic fashion.

"Jin, please stop acting like a twelve-year-old girl," Sun requested. For the first time she allowed herself to stare defiantly at her, and the change he saw in her eyes was a shock to his system. Boiling rage coursed through his veins and he actually began to shake as he stared at Sun.

"Sun, this is the last straw," Jin whispered. Before Sun had a chance to ask what he meant he had turned on his heel and was sprinting back up the path to the caves. His intent was suddenly clear and it caused Sun to shriek and run after him. When she caught up to him he was already looming over Michael and Walt, who were still asleep near the fire. Jack and Sayid saw him and got up just as Michael's eyes opened.

"Oh, not again!" Michael muttered. Walt, disturbed from a pleasant dream about his mother, began to stir. When one eye cracked open and he saw the face of a very angry Korean man looming over him rather than his mother's pleasant smile, he screamed.

Jin began yelling angrily at Michael. He and Walt stood up, Michael keeping himself firmly between Jin and Walt as he started yelling back. The colorful words and statements mixed until they were just one long roar, no longer discernable as intelligent conversation.

Jack moved forward to pull them apart. Boone, awakened by the noise, came to help while the rest of the survivors (minus Charlie and Claire, who had been kept up nearly all night by the newborn baby and by each other and were still fast asleep) gathered around to watch as though it were a show. After all, they were starved for entertainment, and this was as close to a soap opera as any of them had come in months.

Sun motioned Jack and Boone away and went to Jin's side. When she tried to put her hand on his arm he elbowed her, making her take a step back. Michael's voice rose again and he looked even angrier. While the words were foreign to him, their meaning was not, and Jin had heard enough. He drew back his fist and delivered a sizable punch to Michael's jaw before any of them realized what was happening.

Michael stumbled backwards, nearly knocking Walt over. Sun screamed and again Boone and Jack moved in. Once more she waved them off and grabbed Jin by the collar, forcing him to face her. This time she did not hide her emotions, as a polite Korean woman was supposed to do. There was no mask over her anger, her pride, her disgust, and Jin was afraid.

"I hate you," she said in Korean. "If you touch me again, if you so much as _look_ at Michael or Walt, I will not hesitate to let the old man gut you like a boar." Then, in English, she added, "I hate you, and at this minute, with these people as the witnesses, we will be divorced." There. All her cards were on the table for everyone to see.

While Jin (along with everyone else) was still trying to recover from the shock of hearing her speak English, Sun clenched one fist, sucked in her breath, and scrunched up her face. With one swinging blow Jin was on the floor clutching his bleeding nose.

For good measure, Sun spat on him.

When Jin's pathetic sniveling reached her ears, a self-satisfied smirk spread across her face. She stepped over his crying form and went to help Michael into Jack's cave so he could be treated. Jin was left lying on the floor until Michael had been examined and given some painkillers.

That night, Jin moved back to the beach. Sun moved her stuff closer to Michael's and sat up half the night with him. At first she went to him under the pretense of apologizing on Jin's behalf and checking on his swollen black eye. Both knew that she was not responsible for Jin and that his eye had been well cared-for by Jack. She was really there just because she _could_ be, and because she _wanted_ to be there.

When their lips met for the first time at midnight, a small voice interrupted them to ask, "Does that mean I have a stepmom now?"

Sun and Michael looked at Walt, who was sitting up in his bedding looking at him curiously. Sun smiled and motioned from him to come closer so she could hug him.

"Only if you want one," she murmured.

"This is the weirdest family ever," Walt said. "But since we're in the weirdest place ever, I guess that works."

Over his head, Sun and Michael smiled at each other, both faces lighted by the milky moonbeams being filtered through the branches of the trees.

-----  
**To Be Continued…**

**  
Author's note: **My sincerest gratitude goes out to everyone who has read this story.

**  
Coming up:** Fan fiction, slash, and incest, oh my! How will Boone, Shannon, and Hurley react?


	5. ShaBoone and Booley: Unpopular Pairings

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

-----

**Chapter Five: Sha-Boone is not a Hit. Neither is Booley. **

The shriek that resonated through the jungle was loud enough that it reached Hurley's ears as he just stepped foot onto the path that led from the caves to the beach. He had been going to the laptop to look at some message boards about Locke and how he might be able to get them off the island. Now that such a scream was coming from the direction of the laptop, he wasn't so sure he wanted to go.

Still, no one else was around the camp. Jack had gone for a romantic stroll along the beach with Kate. Charlie and Claire were playing with the baby at the beach. Almost everyone else was trying to contribute through gathering fruit, hunting, or fishing. Except Boone and Shannon.

They had gone to the laptop.

Suddenly stricken with fear that they had been hurt –or worse– Hurley began to jog along the path. Within a minute he saw a figure coming towards him. It was Shannon, and she did not look happy. In fact, Hurley could not think of a word strong enough to describe the look on her face. Infuriated? Outraged? Shocked? Appalled? None even came close.

"Shannon! Did something happen? Is Boone okay?" Hurley asked.

"Boone? He's fine. Except he's just about the most disturbed human on the face of the planet!" she yelled, loud enough that Hurley was sure Boone could hear her. The laptop was just around the corner, after all, and Hurley suspected that Boone and Shannon had been surfing the sites on it.

"Why did you scream? Or was that Boone?" Hurley asked.

"It was me. I screamed because my bonehead of a brother started poking his nose around websites that need not be bothered with. If you see him, tell him not to come back to the caves tonight. I'm not sleeping within five feet of him!" Shannon declared, stomping her foot on the ground for good measure. She stormed past Hurley in a whirlwind of blonde hair and frilly skirt, a brooding look still marring her features.

Hurley watched her go in bewilderment before turning to go towards the laptop. He hoped Boone was still there so he might be able to get to the bottom of Shannon's behavior.

"Hey, Hurley." He was there, and he was seated in front of the laptop calmly viewing a web page. Hurley came closer to see what it was about.

"Hey, dude. Your sister's pretty pissed off. Did something happen?" Hurley asked as he sat in the chair beside Boone.

The other man laughed. "Yeah, she's fine, I think. I just found a website that kind of freaked her out."

"What, that slash stuff? Sayid told me about people who write about, like, gay people and stuff. Or was it, what's it called, bestiality? Locke said someone wrote about him and the polar bear, and that really freaked me out," Hurley said, giving a little shudder.

"No, man, it wasn't slash or bestiality. Check this out," Boone said as he turned the screen so Hurley could see it better. The website before his eyes had a collage of pictures at the top, all of Boone and Shannon. Some of them had been manipulated so they looked like they were in some compromising situations. The kind of situations that only happened between brother and sister way out in Hillbilly Land.

The title of the website was "An Incest Fest." It was a fan fiction hosting site.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Hurley uttered.

"No, my friend, I'm afraid not." Boone's expression was unreadable. Whether he was amused or disturbed, Hurley couldn't tell. "Some people out there are convinced that Shannon and I are getting it on."

"And you _read_ this stuff?" Hurley exclaimed.

"I didn't really mean to!" Boone said in defense. "Shannon and I were just trying to find something interesting. We stumbled across this and before I read the title I clicked on a story. This one, in fact." He pointed to a story a little bit below the top. It was rated PG-13. The one below it was NC-17, and most of them were rated R.

"So they write about you and Shannon… actually… like… doing _it_?" Hurley asked.

Boone gave Hurley a strange look. "How old are you, man?" Hurley pretended to be looking at the computer screen to avoid answering. Boone snorted. "Yes, they write about us doing _it_, if that's how you want to put it. At least, I think so. I mean, I didn't read very much of it."

"I can understand why Shannon got so upset. I don't have a sister, but if I did, and someone said stuff like _that_ about me… dude, I'd go berserk," Hurley said.

"Let's find something else." Boone opened the Favorites and went to a different website, one that had lists of websites that were all dedicated to the island and the survivors. Boone suggested checking out a Hurley website and found one called "With You in Paradise."

"More fan fiction," Hurley muttered when the page loaded. It seemed like all they ever found was fan fiction with the occasional message board dedicated to squealing about Sawyer, Boone, Charlie, or Jack. Apparently there were a bunch of teenage girls out there with _way_ too much time on their hands. Honestly, who in their right minds would devote so much time to writing weird stories about people they didn't even know?

"Wanna check one out?" Boone asked, mouse poised and ready for clicking. If Hurley hadn't known better, he would have sworn that Boone was actually _into_ this kind of stuff. As if he _enjoyed_ reading these weird little stories about themselves. But no. That would just be creepy. Hurley didn't know Boone all that well, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be the type to do his sister, or read about it. Right?

But Hurley was easygoing, didn't have anything better to do, and (truth be told) was a little curious about these fan fictions that had caused a few uproars in the past few days. With a good-natured shrug he said, "Sure, why not? Try the first one."

It had the very tame rating of PG, so Hurley thought he would be safe. Not that he expected anyone to write graphic romances about _him_, though. When there were guys like Boone, Jack, Sawyer, Sayid, and Charlie around, who would waste her time writing about someone who looked like Hurley? It would probably be some story about how he's such a great sidekick, a good confidante, and he would never get any action whatsoever.

"WHOA!"

Boone shout brought Hurley's attention away from his internal self-pitying and back to the matter at hand. Apparently Boone was a fast reader, because he was already scrolled about halfway down the page and his eyes were still scanning it, eyes wide as tea saucers.

"What's it about?" Hurley asked.

"It's… I didn't… they… ugh!" Boone was inarticulate, not something Hurley would have expected from this guy. It must be some story. Maybe he did get some action after all! Hurley grabbed the mouse excitedly and scrolled back up to begin the story. Within three seconds he shoved his chair away from the desk so hard and so fast it tipped over backwards, sending him sprawling onto the ground with his legs in the air.

"BOONE!" Hurley shouted angrily.

"I didn't mean to!" Boone cried. He started frantically clicking, keeping his eyes tightly shut, until the arrow found the little X in the corner and the internet browser closed.

"What were you _thinking_?" Hurley yelled, trying to wriggle around until he could get in a position that would allow him to stand up and carry out the plan his mind was formulating to beat Boone's ass into the ground.

"I didn't know, Hurley, I swear! I was just as grossed out as you!" Boone insisted.

"Slash fiction. About _me_? And…" Hurley could hardly spit the word out. "_YOU?!"_

"I don't understand it either! Those people are sick!" Boone yelled.

Apparently their yelling was pretty loud, since it had brought Kate and Jack running towards them, with Locke close behind them. Jack and Kate's appearance suggested their afternoon jungle make out session had been interrupted, which meant they weren't too happy, and Locke was his usually calm, mysterious self. When the three of them surveyed the scene before them, they exchanged bewildered glances.

Hurley was still on the floor, apparently wrestling with the chair that wouldn't let him get up, and Boone was standing over him with a pallid face, wild eyes, and his muscles poised for bolting away. Hurley's face was bright red with anger and he was letting out little roars of frustration every once in awhile. It was not something anyone expected of Hurley, and for Boone to be so afraid of him was almost comical. Kate put the back of her hand to her mouth, her other hand on her cocked him, and turned to Jack as she tried to stifle her giggles.

Jack looked back at her, his eyes laughing, then cleared his throat and looked at Boone. "Hey, Boone, you all right? What's going on here?"

Boone looked up sharply, then looked down again in shame. "Uh, nothing, Jack, everything's fine, nothing to worry about." He coughed a little. "You can go."

"Son, looks like there's been some sort of commotion here. Care to tell us what happened?" Locke asked. He took pity on Hurley and went to help him up, then found himself knocked to the side as Hurley lunged at Boone. What happened next was reminiscent of that old playground game of Cat and Mouse, with Boone playing the part of the lesser being. Hurley chased him around the tables, around trees, all around the clearing, yelling incoherently the whole way.

"Whoa, Hurley, hey, stop!" Jack yelled. He and Kate stood in Hurley's path to stop him and held him by the arms as Locke grabbed Boone before he could run away.

"Okay, Hurley, just take a deep breath and calm down for a second," Locke coached.

"What's going on, guys? Hurley, I've never seen you so mad. Did something happen?" Kate asked concernedly.

"What happened is Boone's a pervert!" Hurley shouted.

"I didn't do it on _purpose_, Hurley, don't be stupid," Boone scowled, sick of being accused of things he really didn't have much control over. "You were the one who told me to click!"

Hurley opened his mouth to let out a retort, then paused to consider Boone's argument. His frown smoothed out and he looked a little bit apologetic. "Oh, yeah. I guess you're right." His expression clouded over again. "But you didn't have to read it!"

Locke raised his eyes heavenward, clearly exasperated. "This laptop is turning out to be more of a curse than a blessing. What did you boys find today? More of that fan fiction? A message board?"

Boone sighed and explained to Locke, "First, me and Shannon came to see what all the commotion was about. We found this site where people wrote stories about me and her…" he blushed, looking very uncomfortable. "We were… they wrote about us doing stuff that… that brothers and sisters shouldn't do, you know?"

Kate pulled a face. "Wow. That's… that's pretty weird."

"Yeah, I know." Boone nodded and let out a puff of air that blew his bangs straight up into the air for a moment. "Then Shannon left because she was so pissed off. I guess Hurley heard her yelling and he came. We started looking for a different site, and we found one that said it was just for Hurley. It had even _more_ fan fiction, and we clicked on one story that was about me and him."

Jack didn't even try to hide his surprise. "You mean, like, _romantic_?" he blurted out, earning himself a reproachful glare from Kate and a rather angry growl that came from the back of Hurley's throat. He had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed.

"Yeah, dude, it was like romantic. And it was disgusting." Hurley shuddered in remembrance of the words and hated to think that there were probably more of them out there, ones with ratings far worse than PG and with content more disturbing.

Locke fought the urge to roll his eyes. When were these people going to _learn_? Why was he the only one who could _see_? "But it wasn't true, was it?"

"NO!" Boone and Hurley shouted.

Locke allowed himself one little exasperated sigh that did not go unnoticed by Boone. "Well then what's the big _deal_?"

"The big deal is…" Hurley broke off, at a loss for words.

"What he means is…" Boone, too, couldn't find an adequate response to such an inquiry.

"Well, there you go. No harm ever came from reading a little story on the internet. Let those people have their fun. You don't have to read it. Now why don't you boys go off into the woods and play nicely for awhile while us big boys do important things?" Locke suggested. Everyone present was very surprised by the bitter tone of voice he employed. Hurley and Boone, very reluctant to annoy the enigmatic Locke any further, scampered away to do just that.

"Something bothering you, Locke?" Jack asked carefully, trying not to tread any toes.

"Oh, no, nothing at all, except for the fact that no one has realized that I know all of the island's secrets and they all refuse to listen to me and people think I'm just a tottering old codger and they don't realize the obstacles I've overcome in my life and no one respects my wisdom. Nothing's wrong at all, Doc, everything's peachy," Locke muttered, so low that neither Jack nor Kate caught more than a word or two. He raised his voice, offered a smile that was more like a grimace, and said, "Not to worry, Jack. I'll just go off and hunt down some more boars, okay? Save your lives once again in return for a passing 'oh, hey, thanks!' and maybe a complaint over the little variety!"

Whistling merrily, Locke wandered off down the path towards the beach, one of his hunting knives twirling in his hands. Kate and Jack looked at each other incredulously, then at the laptop.

"It does things to people," Kate whispered. "He was reading message boards this morning. I think it put ideas in his head."

"Sometimes that's a good thing, right?" Jack asked, reaching for her hand and offering a slow smile as his eyes appraised her.

"You know, I heard a rumor that the fan fiction authors out there don't stick to just boy-on-boy slash. I think some people are keen on the idea of me and Shannon," Kate mused, sounding as though she were considering the idea in her mind.

"What?" Jack demanded, going from flirtatious to shocked and angry in nothing flat.

Kate giggled. "If you want to claim me, you have to catch me!" She ran off, and he gave chase, and some time later they were on the floor of the jungle, Shannon being the farthest thing from Kate's mind.

As Boone and Hurley walked up the path, back towards the caves to find something to eat, an uncomfortable silence hung over them like a wool blanket. Boone glanced at Hurley uncomfortably, then at his shoes, and back at Hurley, who was looking at him. They looked away fast. Slowly, their heads turned again until they were looking at each other, then at the ground again.

They sat before the fire in the beginning of dusk, at opposite ends of a log, eating cold boar meat and overripe bananas. Boone cleared his throat, desperate to end the silence, and nonchalantly scooted a little bit closer to Hurley.

Maybe a little joke could lighten the mood? "So, you uh, come here often?"

Hurley looked at him like he was an alien life.

Okay, so that was no good, apparently.

After a few more minutes of silence, Hurley spoke up, and the tension drained from Boone. "You free tonight?"

"Sure. Maybe a cuddle session?"

"Only if you're comfortable."

From behind them came a muffled scream. They both whipped around to find Shannon, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide in horror.

"No, Shannon, it's not what it looks like!" Boone shouted.

"You. Are. Di-_sturbed_," she whispered, pointing an accusing finger at him before stalking away to move her things far away from Boone's.

"What a drama queen," Boone muttered. He looked at Hurley and they both laughed a little. "Truce, man?"

They shook hands. "Truce. And hey, if you're too busy having make up sex with your sister to cuddle, I'll understand. There's always tomorrow."

Their laughter echoed far into the jungle, matched in volume only by Shannon's high-pitched squeal of disgust.

-----  
**To Be Continued…**

**Coming up:** Charlie, Hurley, and Walt explore the theories floating around the internet.


	6. Survivors Explore Wild Theories

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by**** Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

**-----**

**Chapter Six: Walt, Hurley, and Charlie Explore Wild Theories**

"Hurley! Hey, Hurley, wait up! Are you going to the laptop?"

Hurley turned in surprise at the sound of Charlie's voice. It was rare for him to willingly speak to anyone who was not Claire or the baby, and to see him _alone_ was downright shocking. He slowed down enough to let Charlie catch up before continuing along the path.

"Yeah. What's up, dude? Something wrong?" Hurley asked.

"Wrong? No, nothing's wrong. I've just been so busy lately, you know, with Claire and all, that we haven't had time to hang out. Thought we could spend some time checking out the Internet. You know, quality bonding time, yeah?"

Something in Charlie's tone made Hurley dubious that the rock star was here entirely of his own free will. Arching an eyebrow, Hurley chuckled and said, "She kicked you out, didn't she?"

Charlie sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "Said I'd been spending too much time with her. 'Smothering,' I think was her word. She told me I'd better go spend some time with someone of the male persuasion before I sprouted breasts and started feeding the baby myself."

Hurley laughed outright at that. "All right, buddy, let's go check out what weird stuff is on the laptop today."

However, when they arrived at the desk in the middle of the jungle, one of the chairs was already occupied by young Walt. Vincent lay loyally at his feet and raised his head to look quizzically at Charlie and Hurley when they approached.

"Hey, man, does your dad know you're here? Little ones shouldn't be going on the Internet alone," Charlie said.

Walt rolled his eyes. "Come on. It's not like I can get to any porn sites."

"Well how do you know? Did you _try_?" Charlie challenged.

Walt raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and remained silent. Hurley looked over his shoulder to see exactly what he was looking at. It was nothing but a message board discussing Walt and Vincent's relationship.

"Mind if we have a go, kid?" Hurley asked.

"No way! This is my first time on a computer in months! Give me some time, there's still a lot I have to do!" Walt protested.

"What could you possibly be doing? It's the big boys' turn now, Walt. Go play with your dog or something," Charlie said.

"You'll never be a good father with that kind of attitude," Walt said.

That was exactly the wrong button to push in Charlie. Hurley watched, slightly fearfully, as the color drained from Charlie's face and his eyes narrowed menacingly. Creeping up slowly behind Walt, he had his arms around him and had the kid lifted off the chair before Walt saw it coming.

"Never say that! I'm going to be a great father!" Charlie declared, squeezing Walt as he kicked and struggled and yelled. Upon seeing his master attacked in such a way, Vincent leapt up and lunged at Charlie, attaching himself to his leg until Charlie had to let Walt go to fend off the dog.

Walt grabbed the computer mouse and was about to click on a different link when Charlie pushed him out of the way and started typing in a URL for a Charlie/Claire website. Hurley rolled his eyes and took the mouse for himself so he wouldn't have to go through some mushy lovefest with Charlie giving the computer googly eyes.

"You guys are no fair!" Walt shouted. "It was my turn! You can't just take the computer away from me!"

"Don't be such a baby," Charlie muttered. "Hey! Hurley! So not fair!"

The three boys began to struggle, with Vincent egging them on with a chanting bark. Their haphazard clicking and hitting of keys started transporting them to different websites all over the Internet until they all ended up tumbling to the ground as a result of their grappling.

"Hey! Dudes! That's enough! Someone is touching my behind and Charlie, that better not be your hand!" Hurley yelled. "What did I say about the touching during the golf game?"

"Sorry, Hurley, that's Vincent's nose. Down boy! Go lay down!" Walt stood up and stared at the computer screen as Charlie and Hurley started to dust themselves off.

"Well, where are we at now? Some sort of support group for those who believe in Vincent and Claire's baby or something?" Charlie asked.

"Not quite." Walt sat down and started reading whatever was at the top of the page. Curious, both Hurley and Charlie leaned in to read it.

"_Theories Message Board_," Charlie read out loud.

"_Discuss what you believe to be the answers to all of the island's secrets. Where are they? What is the monster? Who is Alex? Where was Vincent before Locke found him?_ Hey, I thought my dad found Vincent!" Walt exclaimed.

"Never mind that. Just click on something, dude. This looks interesting," Hurley said.

Three hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, Hurley, Charlie, Walt, and Vincent came running into the cave camp as though their tails had been lit on fire. They rushed up to Jack, who was sitting just outside of his cave writing furiously on a few spare pieces of paper. He looked startled when they stopped before him, all panting heavily, and he hastily shoved the papers into his back pocket.

"Hey, Jack, we need to talk… what were those?" Charlie asked curiously.

"What were what?" Jack asked in an attempt to play dumb. Never one for acting, they saw through his lie immediately.

"Those papers you just put away. What were you writing?" Charlie pressed.

"Nothing! It was nothing! What's wrong, guys? You look like you've just seen a monster," Jack commented, casually steering the conversation in a different direction.

Charlie and Hurley exchanged amused glances.

"Dude, you were writing fan fiction again, weren't you?" Hurley guessed.

"What? No! No, of course not, I would never…" Jack sighed when he realized he was defeated. "Okay, yes, _maybe_ I was penning a short story about Kate and I, but if you tell a soul I won't give you your banana rations for a week," he threatened.

Sufficiently frightened, Charlie began explaining to Jack what they had found on the computer that day. "It was this huge message board all about theories that people developed about the island. Like some people said we were in purgatory…"

"What is purgatory, anyway?" Walt asked curiously.

"It's like the waiting room between heaven and hell. You wait there for an eternity or two until the nurse calls you in so Saint Peter can diagnose you," Charlie answered. "See, Jack, some people out there think that everyone actually died and we're all stuck in purgatory…"

"And then some people think that the island is, like, a booby trap or something, like the Bermuda triangle, and it actually sucked the plane in…" Hurley continued.

"That one girl, remember, she said that Mr. Locke had a connection to the island and he knows a lot about what's really going on," Walt put in.

Jack was staring at them with something akin to awe on his face as they all rambled about these so-called theories some crazy people out in cyberspace made up. The way they spoke about them, with reverence and conviction, made it seem as if they believed these people.

"Some people thought Hurley had been on the island before the crash, but he says he hasn't," Walt said.

"And a popular one was that Vincent found out everything, like what the monster is and where that creepy Ethan dude came from, in the days he was missing right after the crash," Hurley said. At the sound of his name, Vincent's head popped up and a little whine came out of the back of his throat, almost as though he were worried.

"The other most popular one was that it was all the polar bear! He planned it and faked his death and he's using us as a pawn in a reality show!" Walt said.

"What do you think, Jack?" Charlie asked.

Jack stared at them in silence. His eyes traveled from one eager face to the next. They were all so excited, as if they were really on to something, and Jack almost hated to crush their little dreams. He couldn't swallow his laughter forever, though, and it all exploded out of him in raucous guffaws. For a full five minutes he sat there laughing, so hard tears streamed down his face and anyone close enough to hear him worried that he was about to crack a rib.

"You actually expect me to _believe_ this crap?" he asked in astonishment when he finally had himself partly under control.

"Well…"

"Erm…"

"Sort of…"

"Guys, the Internet is full of weird people. Just look at the fan fiction stuff. Obviously there are people out there who just have too much time to devote to thinking about us when they should be having lives of their own. These theories are just cock-and-bull stories they made up to have a little fun. You can't actually expect me to take them as truth," Jack said gently, as though he were explaining a laughable simple concept to a slow child. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some really important business to attend to. See you around!"

Jack pushed past them and entered the cave where he stored the medical supplies as well as his own personal belongings. When he was sure he was out of sight, he pulled the crumpled pieces of paper out of his pocket as well as a pen.

"Hmmm…" he mused as he reread what he had already written. "Should I describe her eyes as deep pools of melted chocolate highlighted by the occasional streak of caramel, or as nearly impenetrable spheres of obsidian that hide her deepest secrets from me except in her most vulnerable of moments?"

(Jack, quite obviously, had not read enough fan fiction to know what qualified as a Sue and what did not.)

While Jack was deliberating which cliché would do best for his fic, Charlie was meandering over to where Claire sat with her child. He wrapped one arm around her petite shoulders and leaned onto her with a heavy sigh.

"Something wrong, my love?" Claire asked.

"Nothing. It's just Jack thinks I'm a sodding idiot," Charlie muttered.

"Well, sweetheart, seeing as Jack has gone from being a respectable, logical doctor to a lovesick wannabe poet in the matter of days, I for one would not take his opinion too much to heart," Claire pointed out.

"How do you always know the right thing to say?" Charlie wondered.

"It's a gift. How do you think I ended up with this?" Claire indicated the baby and the two took a moment to stare lovingly at him as he cooed and gurgled. Charlie allowed him to suck on one of his fingers for a moment.

"Claire Littleton, are you telling me you _seduced_ Thomas with your gift with words?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Claire's eyes held in them a mischievous sparkle. "Believe what you will, Charlie, but just keep in mind that the only important thing is that I'm here with you now, and if Thomas were to rot in hell forever I wouldn't shed a tear."

He laughed and kissed her, his beautiful island temptress.

Across the camp, Hurley and Walt were sulking beneath the overhang of one of the caves.

"I thought they were great ideas," Walt pouted.

"Yeah, well, that's what you get for being the underdog. Dudes just don't take you seriously," Hurley sighed.

"What if Vincent really knows everything? He's a smart dog, maybe he knows how to make the transceiver work!" Walt suggested.

Vincent lifted his head off his paws and looked inquisitively at Walt. There seemed to be a spark in those warm, dark eyes of something akin to intelligence. As Hurley and Walt began to argue over the validity of the many theories they had explored that day, neither noticed when Vincent slipped quietly off into the shadows and trotted through the vegetation of the jungle.

-----

**To Be Continued…**

**Coming up: **Could one of the theories have some truth to it? Will we ever find out who is the mastermind behind the laptop? Will this fic ever see an end?

Hint: The answer to all three questions is yes!


	7. The Master Plan is Revealed

**Glimpsing the Fandom**

**by Dreamality**

**Disclaimer:** _Lost _and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture. _Survivor_ belongs to Mark Burnett and oliphaunts are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien.

**-**

**Chapter Seven: In Which the Master Plan is Revealed**

"Our plan is working. The Bosses are pleased." The polar bear crossed her arms behind her head and leaned back languidly, surveying the security monitors that stretched from floor to ceiling along the wall in front of her. She glanced at the yellow Labrador at her side and grinned. "You've done well for yourself, Vincent."

"Thanks. Not like it's hard. Humans are so easy to manipulate." Vincent joined the polar bear in a throaty laugh as they watched Jack sit in front of the computer screen in the jungle, surfing the web for good fan fiction sights. "We can make them do whatever we want."

"Yes. They are rather simplistic creatures, aren't they? They've no idea that they were simply pawns in a great reality show. The audiences are voting and the final tally will come in soon. At that point we send the monster after the first victim," the polar bear said.

"The genius of the plan amazes me. Survivor has nothing on us. After all, what's more dramatic? Seeing a torch put out or seeing someone get mangled by a monster?" Vincent asked.

"Has anyone said anything? You're sure we're safe?" the polar bear asked, suddenly giving Vincent a sharp glance.

"Don't worry, Sahara. Everything's fine. Like I've said, humans are dumber than doornails. They'll never catch on. I can't believe they haven't noticed the cameras yet! I mean, we're not exactly discreet about strapping them onto the backs of the boars or the birds or hiding them in the bunches of bananas," Vincent said.

"They're all too busy staring moodily out to sea or creating sexual tension to notice things like that." The polar bear switch views so they could see Walt. He was calling for his dog. The view switched again to Charlie and Claire, who were singing to the baby.

"Who did you vote for?" Vincent asked suddenly.

"Sawyer. Bastard shot my cousin!" Sahara spat vehemently. "He's lucky I don't run him down myself."

"Why'd you send Ralphie after them anyway?" Vincent asked curiously.

"Same reason I sent Snowflake after your boy. They were coming too close to headquarters. That would have been disastrous!" Sahara switched views again. They were looking at Locke and Boone, who were out in the jungle looking at a mysterious hatch that refused to open. "Fools," Sahara muttered. "Once they break in, all they'll find are some computers that can only access the QVC website!"

"Brilliant ploy, that," Vincent complimented. They were looking at Walt again, only he wasn't calling for Vincent anymore. He seemed to have found something buried in the sand and was digging at it. Sahara recognized it at once and gasped.

"It's the electrical box! If he finds that we're screwed! All the cables lead to that, all he'd have to do is follow it and he'd find us! Go, Vincent, do your job!"

Vincent galloped out of the underground control center to distract Walt. Sahara leaned back again and looked over a fax the Bosses –the producers and creators of this intricate reality show– in America had sent her. Ratings were still up, she saw, but that damn _American Idol_ was starting to creep in on them.

Perhaps it was time for a little publicity stunt? Sahara wondered how viewers would react to a volcano explosion. Or an earthquake. It was all a button's press away on this manmade island. Or maybe something more dramatic, something more emotional? He could send another shark after one of the Red Shirts, or…

No. She had it. The brilliant plan that would draw in millions more viewers and get Sahara a nice fat raise…

It was time to release the oliphaunts.

-

**THE END!**

A big, huge, massive, mondo**THANK YOU** goes out to everyone who reviewed this fic. I love you all to bits and pieces and I'm so glad I coudl provide you with a little entertainment!


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